Afterwards
by Cossacks250
Summary: This is just a quickie on George and Slim after Lennie's death. Enjoy!


Another day at the Caliban Mountains was drawing to an end. A gentle breeze blew through the air as the animals in the forests and desert surrounding the towns, ranches and highways began to make their way home to settle down for the night. A small rabbit hopped back over to It's hole and rose up to glance around one more at the surrounding scenery before diving into the hole. Nearby at the river, a water snake slithered quickly across the surface, making for the large trunk roots of a nearby tree that had half grown out of the side of the river. In the sky, a red sun began to set behind the distant mountains, the last light of day following it. Far off in the opposite direction of the mountains, a dark sky began to creep over the world below. Within another hour, the night would be upon the world.

In one of the small towns near the mountains, a bar was live with activity, as it usually was around about this time. The inside of the bar was a large rectangular shaped room with a curved counter running along the back wall, the curve at the end going into the wall near the right wall of the bar. Around the about ten large tables scattered around the bar, there were other groups of men. A group of four large men were gathered around two other tough looking men who were arm wrestling; the four standing around them cheering them on. At another table on the other side of the bar, a group of three men were playing cards. One growled and slammed his hand down on the table as one of the other men picked up a small pile of coins in his hand from the other man and placed them down in front of him on the table. A few others were standing around the bar, either talking or smoking. Another men was sitting on his own at the curved end of the bar, drinking out of a bottle placed on the counter next to him.

Further down the bar, two other men were leaning against the bar, one with his back against it, the other his face looking down at the counter, emotionless and almost colourless. The man with his back to the counter was tall and thin with a pair of jeans and a small shirt on with a pair of braces strapped over his shoulders. On his feet he wore a pair of thick shoes. The other man next to him was much shorter who was also wearing a pair of jeans and a small shirt. He had the remnants of an aftershave on his face and the skin around his eyes was, though it was very faint, red. It was obvious he was upset and had been crying. A few empty glasses were on the counter next to them, most of them having been emptied by the man who was looking down at the counter as if he was oblivious to the rest of the world around him. He had been drinking ever since they had arrived here earlier on to relieve himself of the depression he was suffering from.

"Hey, c'mon, George," the tall man said, turning over and resting a hand on the shoulder of the man next to him, who just stared on at the counter as if he was ignoring his friend. "C'mon, you can keep acting like this forever,"

George just shifted his shoulders, coughing out a little cough which followed with a sniff, but his eyes never left the counter. It was as if the counter had him in a trance and kept him where he was.

"C'mon, George," the tall man said, leaning down on the bar next to him. "It may have been bad, but you couldn't have done anything else,"

Again, George said nothing. The tall man went to reply, but a thump on wood over in the corner of the bar made him look up. Just as he did, the group of four men and one of the men sitting down at the table they were gathered around cheered loudly. One of the men had just won the arm wrestling competition. One of the big men standing up, who was medium height and quite muscular and whose name was Carlson, slapped a hand onto the back of the man who had won.

"Nice one, buddy!" he exclaimed.

The tall man just smirked a little before looking back down at George, who had not even looked up to see what the noise was.

"Just think about it for a second, George," he said. He tapped George on the shoulder. "Now, c'mon, look at me," he said. A pause in which George did nothing. "George, please! Just look at me for a second," Another pause.

Then, after about two seconds, George just sighed and turned his head to look at his friend.

"Thank you," the tall man said. "Now George, just think about it. If Curley and the others had gotten to Lennie, they would have lynched him, I said that to you myself," George did not reply, but the man continued on. "You know he wouldn't have been able to go through with something like that. And you know what would have happened to him if we turned him in to the sheriff,"

George looked away and sighed and resumed looking back down at the counter. His friend, however, continued on.

"Now, c'mon, George," he said. "Y'know you wouldn't been able to let him get lynched or arrested,"

George coughed a little. His friend went to talk when the barman, a medium height man with black hair and a small moustache and was wearing a pair of jeans, a small white shirt and a white apron tied around his waist, walked over to them.

"Whattya have?" he asked.

"Shot," George replied, not looking up at the barman, who looked at George's friend.

"Same here," he said. The barman nodded and walked off to get their drinks.

"George, you can't stay here for the whole night thinking this'll help," his friend said, holding up one of the empty glasses to prove his point.

"Why not?" George replied. "It helps me clear my head," he turned his head to face his friend. "You don't know what It's like to carry the guilt around with you, Slim," he told his friend. "And not only do I have to carry the guilt of killin' Lennie, but I've broken the promise I made to him and to his Aunt Clara,"

He resumed looking back down at the counter, leaving Slim to think about what he had just been told. After Lennie had been shot in the head, George and Slim had walked into town to get a drink and on the way, George had told Slim how he had told Lennie about their intended dream. About how they would have a house and how they would have chickens and crops and rabbits. The rabbits were what Lennie loved the most about the dream. He would tend them all day and feed them alfalfa, and he done all of that to make sure Lennie did not know that he was going to be shot. A tragic fate, but then again, if George had not shot him, then Lennie would have been lynched or put in prison and both would have been long and painful for him. What George had also told Slim was how he had promised his Aunt Clara that he would look after Lennie and that he had looked after Lennie when his Aunt Clara died. All of that now was coming back to George as guilt and in a way; Slim knew that George was right. After all of that, he could not imagine how George could carry all of that around in his mind.

"Lennie didn't mean any of it," George muttered, though loud enough for Slim to hear. "He was just a big kid that liked petting things but was unaware of his own strength,"

Slim nodded a little as he leaned against the counter. That was pretty much what Lennie was. He was just a big kid that was did not realise his own strength. He never meant to do bad things. He would never hurt anyone intentionally.

"Still though," Slim said to George, who did turn his head a little to look at Slim. "There is one thing you can be proud of. Lennie's got his chance to tend the rabbits now," George did smile a little. "Knowin' him, he's probably up there tending 'em right now,"

George smirked a little. Yes. That probably was what Lennie was doing right now. All his life and all of the time he was with George, he talked about how he wanted to tend rabbits. As much as it was annoying, you had to admit it was a comforting feeling.

Slim smiled when he saw George smirk. He had finally cheered him up a little.

"Here ya go," the barman said as he returned with two small glasses filled with alcohol. He placed them down on the counter, emanating a little tap as they hit the wood, and he walked off down to the end of the bar to resume cleaning the glass the man who had been sitting at the end of the bar on his own, who had left now, had been drinking out of.

George and Slim picked up a glass each and tapped them together.

"Rest in peace, Lennie," George said before drinking his drink.

**Note: This was actually a homework piece I was set a couple of years ago, only I've just tweaked it a little. Enjoy!**


End file.
